


"In Her Bed"

by RadMo



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Baby Gay Alex Danvers, F/F, Gay Panic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8810134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadMo/pseuds/RadMo
Summary: “I used to love sleeping over at her house... in her room... in her bed.” Alex feels something, and it scares her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I’m late to the party but holy shit I want to know about all the baby gay memories Alex referred to when she came out to Kara in 2x06. Here’s my take on what happened to spark Alex’s falling out with Vicky Donahue back in high school. May or may not be based on some real-life experiences with confusing sleepovers. Also my first fic—at least the first one I've felt compelled to post. Any constructive thoughts appreciated.

They had had a long evening. Even after Sarah and Ethan had left for home at ten, Alex insisted on staying there with Vicky to finish studying the first five chapters of their AP Bio textbook.

“If we want to get through everything before the exam we’ll have to keep going,” Alex said, knowing that Vicky didn’t need any convincing. “I can… I can just stay over.”

And of course, Vicky had agreed.

They quizzed each other on cell parts and processes for another couple of hours until Alex’s eyes began to burn from the effort of reading her small handwriting on neon-colored notecards.

“Agh, another easy one,” Vicky groaned, pulling a hot pink card from the top of the massive deck they had worked on together. “Okay, okay. So what is the enzyme which unwinds the double-helix…?”

Delirious, Alex peered at her friend from over the pages of her thick, heavily annotated textbook, a rakish grin spreading across her face. “Baby,” she said, trying to hold a low, husky tone without laughing. “I wish I were DNA helicase….”

Vicky gave her a bright blue, startled look from beneath her copper-colored bangs as Alex’s words devolved into a frantic giggling rush—“…so I could unzip your genes!”

“Oh, fuck you, Alex,” Vicky scoffed, rolling her eyes and flinging the notecard at her. “I knew you would.”

But the ghost of a smile playing on her lips hadn’t escaped Alex’s notice. For a moment—just a moment—she was glad that she was awake. 

It wasn’t long after that exchange that they decided to go to bed. It was a familiar arrangement. Alex had started sleeping over at Vicky’s shortly after they met in the fall of freshman year—she remembered being thrilled that Vicky had a room to herself. It was everything Alex had wanted at the time. She had only just begun sharing a room with Kara and missed having a space that was all her own. 

 _And her bed_. Vicky’s full-sized bed was roomy, soft, and somehow so much warmer than Alex’s cramped twin bed at home….

Now, Alex slipped under the covers next to Vicky, head falling back into the pillows.

She closed her eyes.

And as tired as she was, she knew she wouldn’t be sleeping.

She knew it would come. It always did. Yes—a thrum, a buzz filled her now. A sensation not unlike what she felt when she saw Vicky laugh or smile. But this feeling was more alive. Secret.

After lying still for some time simply feeling that pleasant vibration, she couldn’t wait any longer. She edged closer to Vicky, her arm creeping over onto the other girl’s side of the bed. She felt Vicky’s arm then, warm against hers. Vicky didn’t move away—she never had. Not in the past few months, anyway, when they had… _well_ ….

Just when Alex had begun to think that Vicky might have actually drifted off to sleep, she shifted onto her side, moving even closer to Alex, her hand lazily falling onto Alex’s taut belly.

Alex let out a silent sigh.

_Yes._

She could feel Vicky’s breath against her shoulder, warm and steady as her hand traced a wide circle over thin fabric. She did it once more before her hand slipped down, slowly— _slowly_ —skimming Alex’s waist, hovering over a narrow swath of skin where her tank top had ridden up. Alex repressed a second sigh as Vicky’s fingers alighted on her thigh and began to trace little patterns.

It started with fingertips—that’s all it had been when… _this_ … had started. But in more recent nights together their palms had flattened when they touched one another, fanning out across thighs, stomachs, calves.

As Alex expected, the light touches soon became broader, heavier strokes, and before long, Vicky’s hand was splayed out on the outside of Alex’s thigh, embarking on a gentle path downward from the hem of her shorts.

The pace was agonizingly slow, but Alex could feel her heart rate picking up as Vicky’s hand finally reached her knee and began climbing back up her thigh.

Alex quietly licked her lips and swallowed as Vicky’s thumb returned to graze the skin just below where the leg of her shorts ended. The subtle thrum of anticipation Alex had been feeling lying next to Vicky now fully unfurled itself within her, and as Vicky’s hand trailed down again, a thought came to her, unbidden:

_I feel so good._

Her mind swirled with warmth; she let go of time, of place. All she knew was the pleasure spreading through her body—her skin was alive with it.

Alex breathed deeply as Vicky’s hand stroked her again and again, gradually moving from the side to the top of her thigh. Soon, Alex felt a not-unfamiliar throb join the sensations coursing through her, and she welcomed the pulsing, aching heat.

_I feel so, so good._

And then, before Alex could quite comprehend it, Vicky’s whole hand had pushed under the leg of her shorts—lingering in a place where Alex had never yet been touched by anyone other than herself. All at once, Alex became breathlessly aware of Vicky’s fingers which seemed _atoms_ away from the hem of her underwear. For a moment, the hand stayed still. It stayed still just long enough for something to begin building in Alex. Something new. Something dangerous, but too much to resist.

The moment passed, and Vicky’s hand swept downward again, but inward too—toward her soft inner thigh—

And Alex felt a thundering rush of _good_.

There was nothing she could have done to stop it.

A deep moan flowed from her parted lips—coaxed from her throat, her chest, the dark warmth blooming in her abdomen. It hung over them, low, ragged, and long. Desperate. Full of....

 _I want_ ….

Then, silence.

In the moment just after Alex realized that the sound had issued from her own lips, Vicky’s hand froze, waited a beat, then withdrew—no— _recoiled_.

With a sharp intake of breath, everything ended.

She felt Vicky shift beside her, turning away, and Alex only half understood what it meant when the shameful sting of tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

She opened her mouth to say something, to explain— _I was asleep, I was dreaming, I was dreaming of Matt Lloyd, of Chris Whittaker, of some boy. Any boy. The sound wasn’t for you. It wasn’t for you It wasn’t for you It wasn’t_—but instead out came a high, shuddering breath.

She wished she could swallow that sound too.

But she couldn’t do anything. She lay rigid on her back, and though her eyes were clamped shut, she felt hot tears squeezing past, leaving searing, wet paths down her cheeks and into her hair. She wanted to leave. To escape. To run. But… what was there to run from if she really had just been dreaming of some boy?

Right. A dream. They had been up so late and she had been so tired—she had to have dozed off. And that meant— _yes_ —that meant that she must been having some kind of sex dream about a guy. That’s the only reason she could have made a sound like that.

Biting her lip hard, she conjured the dream she must have been having. She thought of Matt and Chris again—the two boys in her class she knew wanted her. It had to have been one of them in her dream. Or maybe even both?

She imagined— _no, remembered_ —it now. Matt, with his swimmer’s body, was shirtless, his mouth against her neck. Chris was on her other side, his stubbly cheek against hers as he tempted her to kiss him. Of course she would kiss him. She bit her lip even harder, her tongue shocked by the bitter tang of blood that rushed forth. In the dream, she remembered— _of course she remembered!—_ turning toward him….

In her mind, her lips met soft ones, sweet ones. Her hands were lost in rings of copper hair….

Another feeling ran through her, an echo of the pleasure-haze she had _woken up to_.

Or maybe she just had to pee.

The room was dark, but after a few seconds her eyes adjusted enough so that she could steal a glance at Vicky.

Her back was to her, and Alex could just make out the uneven rise and fall of her sun-kissed shoulder. She was feigning sleep, just as Alex had been.

Playing along, Alex extracted herself from the bed as quietly as she could, feet thudding softly on the carpeted floor. She crept through the door, grateful that it did not creak, and stole down the hallway to the bathroom. 

She blinked hard as she turned on the lights, stunned by the brightness. When she opened her eyes again, she caught a glimpse her pale face in the mirror. Her eyes seemed wider and darker than she had ever seen them. Almost wild. Her bottom lip was stained with blood where she had bitten it. 

Though _her dream_ explained the sticky wetness between her legs, Alex was powerless to fend off the shock of mortification that wracked her when she felt it. She hastily wiped it away, but there was little she could do about the significant wet spot on her underwear where she had soaked through.

Staring down at the spot, that incontrovertible sign of _want_ , she felt something deep in her gut turn over, some secret part of her which felt wholly independent of her brain. That part of her knew in a visceral, exhilarating way that what she saw now meant… _something_.

Without warning, a new panic seized her throat and chest. She didn’t understand quite why, but she knew she had to leave. Right now.

After finishing up in the bathroom, she shot back down the hallway to Vicky’s room. She made no real attempt to be quiet this time, feeling her way back to her side— _her side_ —of the bed, searching the bedside table for her cellphone. When she had found it, she flipped it open, scanning the room for her things under the faint blue light.

She quickly recovered her notebook, her textbook, her clothes from the day before and flung them all into the open pouch of the backpack she had left by the door. As she fumbled with the zipper she heard the rustle of the bed sheets behind her.

“Alex…” Vicky’s voice cut through the darkness, heavy with something that Alex couldn’t quite place, “Alex, what are you doing?”

“I have to go.”

Alex was surprised that the tremors in her hands did not carry to her voice. She sounded strong, certain.

“It’s, like, three in the morning.” Vicky muttered, exasperated. “Why—“

“Kara,” Alex said firmly, as if the name alone explained everything. “Kara texted me. She needs me.”

She heard Vicky sigh. Though Alex couldn’t see her clearly, she knew she was running her hands through her hair like she always did when she was feeling nervous or uncomfortable.

“Look, I know how much you love Kara, but what could she possibly need from you right now?” Vicky said finally. “She can live without you for just a few more hours, can’t she? Just… stay. You need sleep”

Alex felt a tug in her chest, hearing the unexpected hint of sadness in Vicky’s voice. But she steeled herself.

“I _was_ asleep,” she lied, her own voice hard. “I’m fine. And I have to go.”

She finally managed to zip the backpack and slung it over her shoulder, straightening up.

“Al, please—“

The way Vicky almost sighed the nickname made something in Alex _want_ to stay. But the hot fear in her chest rose in her throat, stifling the want. Before she could stop it, the fear rose into her mouth and twisted out of her in an angry growl.

“God, you are so clingy.”

“What—?”

It was one word, but she could hear the hurt in it. Through the heady vindictive thrill that surged through her, Alex could see in her mind wide blue eyes and pink lips drawn tight.

She shook her head, as if to erase the image and turned away.

“Nothing. I’ll see you Monday”

“Alex—“

She left before she lost her resolve, making her way to the door and stopping only to slip on her shoes. Vicky didn’t follow her.

She rushed out of the house, only to see an empty street where she had expected to see her car parked next to the curb.

Sarah had given her a ride—she had forgotten. 

“Shit.”

She stood on the front step, cold night air biting at her bare legs and arms. She clutched her phone in her right hand.

She could call Kara right now. She could fly her home, covering the two miles in seconds. Even though she wasn’t supposed to, Alex knew she would if she asked.

Alex thought, too, of Kara’s arms around her. The way they wrapped around Alex’s waist when she cried, feeling homesick and lost. Alex always felt so strong in those moments. She wondered what it might feel like for Kara to comfort her now instead.

But Alex couldn’t bring herself to call. She couldn’t worry Kara.

And, really, everything was fine. _It was fine_.

With a shiver, she started walking home, pushing thoughts of Vicky and her warm bed to the back of her mind.


End file.
